We Are Still Here; Addressing Anti-Indigeneity in the Hunting Community
Photo courtesy of the Cumberland County Historical Society
This piece was originally pitched to MeatEater shortly after the publication of “Archaeology Explained; Can I Pick Up That Arrowhead?” by Liz Lynch. We at Hunters of Color believe that the anti-indigneous comments garnered by this story should be directly addressed, if not outright rebuffed. However, MeatEater told us that “reacting to Facebook trolls will not serve to advance this cause,” and instead suggested we write something about R3 with a tie-in about cultural artifacts. Respectfully, we disagree. Standing up for indigneous rights and sovereignty is more important than ever, especially when vile and racist sentiments continue to persist and be amplified on major hunting platforms like MeatEater. We also think it’s important to call out our friends, including Steven and all the folks at MeatEater, when we know they can do better. Recently they interviewed Scott Giltner, author of "Hunting and Fishing in the New South,” and discussed the impact that letters to the editor of old sporting periodicals had on Black communities in the Jim Crow south. It seems hypocritical to decry the racist sentiments of those letters, while allowing the same types of comments to flourish on their own platforms. As a hunting community we can and should do better, and we plan to. HOC is working on a follow up story that focuses on this topic from several indigenous perspectives - so keep an eye out for that. In the meantime, please consider the words of Lydia Parker, our Executive Director, as she very clearly outlines the case for standing up to anti-indgenous commentary.
-Board of Directors, Hunters of Color
Imposter syndrome— (also known as perceived fraudulence); loosely defined as a psychological phenomenon that causes an individual to doubt themselves, their skills, identities, and achievements.
I am just one First Nations woman. I don’t speak for indigeneity. I don’t speak for First Nations people. I don’t speak for the Kanien’kehá:ka, or even the Walker-Mohawk band.
But I do speak as a human, and I present my thoughts to you asking that you respect me as such. In fact, I think that I speak for most humans when I say that respect for ourselves and our families is non-negotiable.
I wrote this piece with two principles in mind: a genuine desire for mutual respect, and an understanding that no individual can truly represent an entire people, no matter their belonging, or individual status amongst those people. But especially not without a connection to that people group.
So why, then, do some non-indigenous people continue to take it upon themselves to speak for indigeneity as a whole?
Last month, MeatEater posted an article by archaeologist Liz Lynch titled, “Archaeology Explained; Can I Pick Up That Arrowhead?” The article was well written and well researched. MeatEater did the right thing by posting it, even if we would have preferred that it came from an Indigenous archeologist such as Meranda Roberts, who Liz cited as an expert. In the past, I’ve seen MeatEater episodes where Steven Rinella himself leans over to examine arrowheads— and leaves them be. Therefore, it seems this article falls in line with MeatEater’s stance in the past. So what’s the problem?
Whether or not Rinella himself has taken flack for respecting Indigenous artifacts and setting an example on his Netflix show, I’m not sure. But the author of this piece, Liz, was certainly met with an excessive amount in the Instagram comments— “flack” would be an understatement.
While I would write an article to stand up for Liz and her hard work as a woman in archeology anytime, that’s not what this is about. Respecting women as voices of authority in this space is a different story altogether. This piece is about the anti-indigeneous sentiment that is pervasive throughout the comments on her article from the MeatEater audience and the wider hunting community.
Some of the responses to this article included things like, “I know the people who made these arrowheads wouldn’t care if I took them or not.” And “The people who crafted these artifacts would laugh at your laws and ethics. But they are long gone.”
And it begs the question — if I don’t feel comfortable speaking for indigeneity as a whole — how on earth do they? What kind of hubris must it take to say, “No, I’m not a part of this group, but I’m going to speak for them anyways.” (Now back to impostor syndrome — guess who it’s most likely to impact? Not these people in the comments— but women of color. Which makes sense if you think about it; impostor syndrome demands self-awareness. And even while I write this piece, I stumble over whether or not my voice belongs in this place. So while this article is a call-out of anti-Indigenous sentiment, I hope it can also be a call-in. Women of color, stand proud. Your Black, Indigenous, and/or brown voice is (clearly) so needed in this space!)
Most of the rest of the responses to this article consisted of what can only be described as puerile comments. This includes, “Shoulda fought harder for that land I guess,” as well as, “You can’t tell me what to do, I’m going to take the arrowhead anyway!” And of course, “If I don’t take it, the next guy will.” And that is colonialism in a nutshell; a competitive attitude and entitlement toward things that do not belong to you.
In Kanien'kéha, we have a word to describe ourselves: “Onkwehonwe,” which means “first peoples,” and envelopes an attitude of respect and responsibility to be good stewards of the land and everything in it. The onus of this respect shouldn’t fall solely on First Nations peoples. You shouldn’t have to be Indigenous to care about conservation and preserving heritage. In fact, it should be in your very nature as a hunter to care about those things, and therefore, to respect regulations and ethics that uphold them. There’s a word for people who don’t respect such laws, and punishment includes hunting license revocation, fines, and even jail time.
Sprinkled throughout the comments were a few Indigenous voices asking for the same thing I am asking for. Respect. Asking to not be talked about as a monolith. Asking to not be talked about as ancient, quasi-mythological civilizations. And asking to be understood and respected as the humans that we still are today. Perhaps one of the most echoed responses from Indigenous people was a call for empathy: “If someone found something that belonged to your grandpa, on your grandpa’s land, wouldn’t you want it back?”
I appreciate this ask for empathy, because any reasonable human would answer, “Of course.” And I have posed similar questions throughout my life while discussing this topic. But I also want folks to realize that this question errs on the side of reductionism. Why? Because...
Your grandpa may or may not have had his house, his homeland, and his hunting grounds looted and stripped from him. But ours did.
Your family may or may not have been scattered and driven like herds of wild beasts onto barren tracts of land far from anything we knew or held sacred. But ours were.
Your grandpa’s children, and his children’s children, might not still be struggling against centuries of systemic oppression, exploitation, and erasure, while fighting for basic human rights like clean water. But we are.
You may or may not be living in a world where people argue about your existence and debate your very identity and your claims to land, artifacts, and lifeways that have been yours since “before the Romans thought of Rome.” But we do.
However, I am not asking you to try to understand these concepts. I am asking you for empathy, and the decency/respect you’d give any human being and their family. In a podcast that Hunters of Color recorded with MeatEater’s The Hunting Collective, Ben O’Brien proffered, “If anyone comes to you asking for empathy and you deny them that, you are cruel.” This is a powerful, discerning statement that I quote often, and one that I hope to see adopted and embodied by more of the hunting community, and by our society at large.
As always, in dealing with things in the past, people will cry, “Well I didn’t personally commit any of the atrocities Lydia mentioned. I am not responsible for them.” While you personally may have not committed these crimes in the past, you are responsible for the present, and therefore, the future. In dealing with the past, there is a biblical principle of atoning for, and making right, the errors of our forefathers (I am sure that many of the people in the comments on Liz’ article are familiar with this concept). On the flip side, there is a Haudenosaunee concept that requires us to consider that our decisions and actions will affect our families “Seven Generations,” into the future. Respecting indigeneity past and present—from arrowheads to land rights—is just one way to ensure sustainability and tranquility in our future.
What this respect looks like in practice from big hunting organizations such as MeatEater is not a “Welcome” sign. (As an Indigenous person, if I see anti-indigenous rhetoric going unchecked, am I truly going to believe that I am ‘welcome’?) What we need from folks in influential places in the hunting community is a “Come On In— We Are Going to Make Sure This Place is Safe for You” sign. This means we need intentional and purposeful evaluation of where anti-indigeneity, anti-blackness, and anti-POC culture has been allowed to fester in our spheres of influence, leading us to this place where 97% of hunters are white. We also need meaningful partnerships with folks doing the work like us at Hunters of Color, Minority Outdoor Alliance, Brown Folks Fishing, etc.
We posted on our Instagram story that we would like to see MeatEater call out the anti-Indigenous attitudes of their consumers. We were met with a lot of, “Good luck with that,” or “Haha, yeah right! They would never. They know their fanbase.” Perhaps I am foolish, but I have a little more hope. We would love to see MeatEater (and other large hunting organizations) prove these folks wrong by establishing right now that they uplift and respect indigeneity, and that they will not stand for racism of any kind to be perpetuated by their fans. Aren’t they concerned that their fanbase feels so comfortable spewing such vile rhetoric on these posts? Might those people think twice about typing anti-indigenous comments if MeatEater explicitly stated that they weren’t okay with it? And if not… If your following can’t respect the first hunters of this land… do you really want them representing you?
I believe that this is an issue that MeatEater, and the hunting community, can (and will) address– not for PC or PR’s sake, but for the sake of human kindness, understanding, and because the last thing that hunting needs is to discourage diversity. And what could be more discouraging to Indigenous people than anti-Indigenous vitriol?
I’m sure there will be people who say, “MeatEater didn’t write those nasty comments! Why should they, or the hunting community, even address them?” I’ll answer your question with a question: Have you ever heard the phrase “Silence is Violence”? If you witness abuse taking place and you don’t do or say anything to stop it, does that make you any better than the abuser? In the court of law, in some cases, if you witness a crime and stand by idly, you can be held culpable as an accomplice.
“Accomplice” is a word that is used a lot in racial justice circles nowadays, meaning a person (or organization) that is more than just a passive ally. We need people who help us examine and dismantle systems of oppression and abuse. In this situation, we believe that MeatEater doesn’t actually have the choice to remain silent and maintain innocence. You can choose to be silent and be the accomplice of the oppressor, or you can choose to say something and be an accomplice in dismantling oppression. While it might feel easier to do nothing, there is no such thing as truly “doing nothing” where harm is being done. As Martin Luther King, Jr. famously said, “There comes a time when silence is betrayal.”
We would ask MeatEater and the hunting community at large to remember — the Indigenous holocaust in North America didn’t begin with genocide. It began with harmful ideas and hateful rhetoric allowed to run rampant, unchecked by those in power. This rhetoric can feel like innocuous ramblings from internet “trolls” to those who aren’t in the targeted demographic. But racist comments that remain uncurbed are far from innocent. Something has to be said.
This could be a pivotal moment in re-structuring the narrative around indigeneity and hunting. If large hunting organizations would make statements denouncing anti-indigenous racism, it would present an incredible opportunity; an opportunity for us to unlearn the incomplete and untrue histories and stereotypes about Indigenous peoples, and an opportunity to open the door to empathy-centered conversations as we move forward in the pursuit of truth. Together.
If you are a non-Indigenous reader of this piece and would like to help but you aren’t a leading voice in the hunting world, you can still make a difference. And it starts with education.
Many (perhaps well-meaning) people in the comments also said, “Well if I leave the arrowhead there, no one will ever see it! How can we talk about these cultures if we’re leaving their arrowheads on the ground?” I’ll tell you how. Take a picture and leave it alone, then be the one in your family or in your friend group that puts in the work to figure out who’s land you are on. Native-land.ca is a great resource. Figure out how you can support the people whose land you hunt on. The systems into which Indigenous peoples have been placed were not set up for us to succeed, so there are always ways to benefit the First People whose land you are on, even if it is just by educating those around you. Education is bigger than it seems; you can’t care about something you don’t know about.
The fact that people are even asking that question shows how little is known about modern Indigenous experiences. For example, did you know that many tribes have our own Departments of National Resources and museums at our tribal headquarters, or on our reservations? If your goal is truly to make sure that our stories are heard, leave the arrowhead alone and call your local tribe’s “Cultural Protection Program,” or “Historic Preservation Office." Contact information can be found on most tribe’s websites. Don’t worry about us not telling our story. But let us tell it. We’ve been telling it. It’s not your job to tell it; instead, listen, learn, and educate yourself and others.
We encourage everyone to seek out and support Indigenous outdoors organizations like “Indigenous Women Hike,” “Natives Outdoors,” or “Native Women’s Wilderness.” Follow and support people like Thosh Collins, Erica Nelson, Len Necefer, Jacob Broussard, nangghaahlaangstangs, Brandon of Decolonized Meateater, and Kami Elsisie.
Lastly, we want to offer resources for our Indigenous relatives during these distressing times.
The Indian Residential School Survivors Society 24-hr Crisis Line: 1-(866) 925-4419
The StrongHearts Native Helpline 1-(844)-762-8483 available 6am-9pm PST
Every single Indigenous person we know has been impacted by residential/boarding schools in some way. Dealing with more terrible news stories while coping with anti-Indigeneity met with apathy from the general public can feel like too much sometimes. But please remember, you are not alone, and your existence is resistance.
This piece was written just before the discovery of yet another residential school burial ground. Indigenous people throughout the continent are being faced with seemingly endless reminders of the generational trauma of colonial genocide, while putting up with modern day anti-indigeneity. I ask the reader to pause— reflect on the lives of the children stolen from us, and donate to causes like MMIW2S to help prevent any ongoing genocide and loss.
When people take an arrowhead or damage an artifact, they’re not just taking a piece of stone from the ground; they’re taking a piece of culture, just like the residential schools who took so many potential knowledge keepers from us. Nia:wen for reflecting on this piece with these losses in mind.
